


Death and His Merry Band of Seven

by phena



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Shameless Smut, lots of swearing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-21
Updated: 2016-08-16
Packaged: 2018-07-25 18:53:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 16,588
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7544035
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/phena/pseuds/phena
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The main character has suffered an unknown traumatic event and ends up getting amnesia. She is unable to piece together any of her past memories (aside from useless tidbits like old wheezebags and PopTarts), and everything about her, aside from her constant sass and bad attitude, is a mystery. Kylo Ren seems to be overly protective - and sometimes a bit rough. Hux hates her - go figure. But both aid her on her recovery in their own separate ways and obviously the best laid plans go awry. Don't worry, sexy times will happen.</p><p>I changed the title because I made the previous one whilst craving pudding. </p><p>Kudos, comments, etc always welcome! Feedback is appreciated :)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Georgia the Hibiscus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Neither of the two lovebirds said a word to me, and just seemed to be satisfied that I wasn’t rambling on about spoons or lemonade or usual things that crazy people talk about - not that I was even close to being normal.
> 
> And thus we embarked on our journey to Starkiller Base.

“Please remove your helmet.” I said, sighing as I flipped open the chart and glanced at the medical information.

The Stormtrooper painfully took off the giant metal capsule that seemed to be his only identity, and gave me a sheepish smile. Looked at his face and could see the tell-tale signs of little bits of disgusting cafeteria food sticking to the corners of his mouth, along with a greenish hue that you really only find at the bottom of a long-forgotten fish tank.

  
Stomach cramps, no appetite (but then again, who could possibly have one with Starkiller Base’s cooks…if that’s what you’d call them – I would personally always refer to them as Serial Killers of All Nutrition, but that seems to get me spit in my broccoli and not just one, but bundles of hair, in my potatoes – which really makes me wonder, where in the hell are they getting the hair because they’re all bald?), nausea…probably just needed to have his appendix taken out.

“Uh…Doctor…” He spluttered, trying to start some sort of a conversation. Really wasn’t used to having his face being seen and all that hullabaloo. God, I wanted him to just shut up and listen to me.

“Now, now, I don’t want you to do anything that will upset your stomach again. No reason having you projectile vomit over me like you did to your superior.” I huffed as I clicked my pen and quickly wrote down a few words that would zip him over to surgery and out of my delicious and rather dry, to be honest, hair.

“Yes, of course ma’am.” And that promptly sent him back to silent camp.

“Take this,” I threw a bottle of blue pills in his direction and prayed he wouldn’t be a fool and miss. And a few milliseconds later I heard a sound that could only be the bottle splintering on the ground and the pills frolicking around in between the tiles like some sort of farm animal released into the free open mud.

  
I sighed again and turned to face him. His face had somehow changed from green to white, and I saw the rest of his body shake with fear. I realized it couldn’t have been my death glare, as I was still in the process of giving him that look, so I slowly turned to the slightly open white screen door and was greeted with the most heart-warming black robes.

Ah, the mysterious and all powerful, Kylo Ren.

Strangely enough, I was never scared of him. I always felt that there was some deep connection that we shared, as if we were linked up by our mutual love – ha. I’m just shitting you. I had no clue what happened before I woke up in the Base’s (less than functional and highly unhygienic, mind you) hospital, strapped up to my neck in IVs with emo Ren and stick-up-his-ass Hux next to my bed. Even then, I needed to see my name to remember it. Neither of the two lovebirds said a word to me, and just seemed to be satisfied that I wasn’t rambling on about spoons or lemonade or usual things that crazy people talk about (not that I was even close to being normal). I was simply informed by Captain Phasma that I was the main physician and I had suffered some sort of a panic attack that wiped my memory…suspicious but I took her word for it, as I was way too much of a lazy ass to truly care. No one really bothered me after that, and what I understood to be nose-turned-down-upon behaviour that I had went unpunished. Huh.

  
The Stormtrooper immediately stuck his can over his head, and shot up like a rocket, saluting Ren as though his arm was on steroids and the rest of his body belonged to a toddler.

“Commander Ren.” He whispered.

“I believe that your appointment is over.” Kylo breathed through his Oh-my-god-I-swear-I-am-not-obsessed-with-Darth-Vader-it-is-just-a-phase helmet.

“Actually,” I said while standing up, “I haven’t given him all of his medication yet…seeing that JP-0891 seems to be the proud owner of butter fingers.”

Silence. No laughter. Not even half a chuckle. In fact, it was somehow even quieter than before.

I groaned inwardly and rummaged through the cabinet to produce another set of happy blue pills. This time, I closed them into his fingers and sent him packing over to surgery.

  
He scurried off as if his legs were tiny little motors and I managed to yell behind him, “Take one a day until your surgery!” and once he was out of earshot, “And please _don’t_ come back.”

I went back into my room and was just about to call the next patient when I realized that Kylo Ren was huffing and puffing like the Big Bad Wolf in the corner of the room, right next to my Hibiscus plant, Georgia. I could see her leaves shaking under his breath, and I could only feel the suffering of her beautiful blossoms. I had spent over three years trying to coax that stupid thing to bloom, and now Kylo Ren’s annoying breath was going to ruin everything. I was half waiting for him to swing out his light saber and go all bat shit crazy on my plant, just because he could.

And so I did the only natural thing – I leaped up from my chair, rugby tackled him to the ground, and swooped up my precious plant before gently putting it on the very top cabinet. Feeling very satisfied with my actions, I plopped down into my nice comfy white leather chair, and turned to face Kylo Ren who was still sprawled on the floor.

“Now that you have fully tortured Georgia, what would you need today?” I asked sweetly with an extra-large heaping of synthetic sugar on the side. I grabbed another medical examination sheet and cocked an eyebrow at the attractive (yes, I have been blessed with the sight of his face) man-child.

He slowly unravelled his wispy black robes – to be fair, they did seem to be designer chic – and walked towards the patient chair. I was just waiting for him to shish-kebab me with his angry meth-head Crayola crayon sword, and was formulating my last thoughts: _I would like to thank the First Order Medical Association for granting me the pristine honour of the most hated/worst doctor aboard Starkiller Base, and I do hope that the past three years of you hearing my lame jokes, sarcastic quips, and sometimes, sexual innuendos, have been worth it. Good bye, good bye, good-_

“Doctor.” Kylo Ren’s voice snapped me back into reality. I braced myself for the burning sensation, but nothing came. Huh. Who knew that I-am-all-powerful-Ren could actually take a joke?

“Yes patient, what can I do for you today?” I almost sung, trying to see just how far I could push the limit of his very short, in fact dwarf-like, patience. “Do you have cramps – maybe it’s the time of the month (I winked here to ensure that he knew I was joking, but goddammn I hated it when Satan decides to rain blood down your uterus) – or is it just a bit too itchy down there (and I mockingly pointed towards his nether region) – or is it not…o gasp…working? (and that was a direct attack at the rumour that sway-through-the-hall-like-I-am-the-big-boss-Ren had erectile dysfunction.)”

I truly am nothing short of being the world’s greatest pain the ass. I crack my knuckles and await a response. All I got was his removing his helmet, shaking out his beautiful, black locks – damn I wanted to ravel my fingers in them and straddle his hips – and those adorable, large, puppy-dog eyes that seemed to change colours in the light giving me the death glare. Man, what I would give to kiss those lips –

“I can hear you.” Kylo grunted, and straightened himself out on the chair. Ah shit. Totally forgot about that mind-reading thing. Well, he had basically just got a glimpse of practically everything I wanted to do to him…maybe he’s into that…?

“Not right now.” He muttered under his breath, and I realized that he was actually pretty worried about something.

“Maybe later, hm…?” I winkedseductively, but I ended up choking on the water I hadbeen sipping…strange, it tasted a little bit cough-drop like.

Kylo Ren seemed to bubble up with rage, and he clenched and unclenched his fist again and again. Must be a new anger-management technique that his lover boy Hux –

“He is not my lover.” Ren seethesdthrough clenched teeth. This time, I did feel that my life was over and I mentally tried to finish my speech: _Good bye, cruel world, one that has not allowed me to fill all of my prior duties as both a woman and –_

“FOR GOD’S SAKE, CAN YOU SHUT UP?” Ren roared, and I could feel the entire clinic freeze up. The usual clamoring of metal charts and wibbly wobbly whoo wheels of the even more metal trolleys all instantly clicked off. I felt Cassandra, the blonde bitch residing across from my examination room, cross her fingers for my early demise at the hands of o-so-handsome-he-is-my-secret-husband-(her words, not mine)-Ren.

Luckily, I was to live another day as Ren rubbed his temples with his leathered hands and, quite inaudibly, murmured, “Sorry.”

Sorry? Sorry?! Sorry?!!?!! When did Commander Ren ever apologize? Did he even have that word in his vocabulary? I had always thought his inner dictionary was composed of merely _destruction, Darth Vader, honour, grandpa, ginger man, Luke, Snoke, luscious, hair_ –

“Can. You. Please. Shut. Up.” He groaned and squeezed his eyes shut so tight I thought they would pop.

“Well (and right here I stopped myself from saying anything rude because I really did think I would get into huge trouble), I am truly _sorry_ (extreme emphasis on this word to test if Ren knew what it meant – he glanced up in a way that suggested he would have me for breakfast the next morning and not in the good way) for my behaviour. I can easily send you over to Dr. Cassandra,” and I pointed languidly to the bothersome squirrely lady across from me, who had managed to literally drop everything to dumbfounded-ly wave at Ren, “And I will be completely and utterly out of your hair.”

I half-expected him to force-choke me, but at the same time, I seemed to expect his answer.

“No. I came here specifically to talk to you, Doctor.” He stared deep into my soul, if I have one.

I furrowed my brows as if I were in deep thought, and pretended I was as clueless as Dorothy when she realized she wasn’t in damn Kansas anymore but Oz – I mean for god’s sake, there are lollipop trees and dancing yellow men and shit, of course you’re not in Kansas. “Why…would you want to speak to me?”

He rubbed his temples some more, and although he didn’t say it, I could hear _Damn, you’re a thick shit_ ring through the air. Truthfully, I really didn’t have a clue. Not like we interacted in any way outside of the clinic – unless you count angrily marching past me while I eat a bagel or scornfully throwing side looks my way when I try to sneak some of the decently made brownies out of the cafeteria or occasionally sitting beside me at the lunch table to steal my soup and make ooey-gooey eyes at Hux.

“Stop it. I am not dating Hux.” He growled.

Not yet at least.

“I’ve been…under the command of Supreme Leader Snoke, (ah, he must make sure that I know this is most definitely not of his own accord) assigned to ensure that the rehabilitation of both your abilities (abilities? Like what? Making bad jokes and eating too much without exercising?) and memory goes smoothly and undisturbed.” He managed to say without once strangling me for inconveniencing him. “I have also been having…”

“Having what?” Wet dreams?

Another glare. I should watch myself…and why would Snoke -

“Nightmares, anxiety attacks…” He trailed off. There had to be something else as well. He seemed to be finished talking, and I decided today was not the day to push.

  
“Oh, well that must be attributed to all of your stress, Commander.” I smiled and quickly jotted down a prescription that he could go dispense himself at the tiny pharmacy – if you can even call that hobo shack a pharmacy – for some shits and giggles.

  
He grabbed the paper and stood up quickly. I didn't admit it, but I would have really wanted to have a true conversation with him some time, one where I was not constantly making bad jokes and he wasn't all strung up on his Dark-side-Light-side crap.

  
And, as a quick farewell gift to the next time we meet, I said, “Don’t be embarrassed or even think this is awkward, Mr. Ren. I’m your doctor; I’m here for this stuff.” I turned around and gulped down more of the cough-medicine water – why did it taste like that?

  
“I mean after all,” and I felt myself saying something inappropriate again, “It’s not like we’ve slept together.”

  
All I saw was his expressionless black hair and wide shoulders filling in the doorway. It wasn't said out loud, but I heard it very clearly in my mind.

  
_Oh we have._


	2. Ginger Cat and Ginger Man

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Now I was not saying I had anything against those who made their living giving middle-aged men baths; in fact, one of my very close friends was making a killing like that with some of the higher-ups in the Galaxy, but I was most definitely not one of those people.

With those words, I practically spat out the water and I would have sprayed the entire backside of Kylo Ren if he had not already disappeared down the corridor. So instead, I was left with an empty baby-shower-pink-with-a-touch-of-depressing-on-the-side paper cup, an angry (I needed to read between the lines here) Stormtrooper who went into the supply closet to get a mop, and good old Cassandra snickering at me drooling over my dainty little chin.

Nothing of importance happened over the next few days. I thought that Ren would try to get in my pants at least once - for old time's sake - but he went back to completely ignoring me and only popping up out of nowhere to check that my head was intact and I didn't develop more memory problems. He also made it his mission to block me from entering any room that wasn't my workplace, dorm, or cafeteria. When I kindly asked if he could be anymore of an ass (I tried to be civil), he pushed me to the ground and then demanded an audience to watch me in my predicament. Of course Cassandra came running the instant Ren inhaled, so she saw me in all my painful glory on the floor. After I mentally berated stupid-useless-unintelligent-Ren, I gave her the finger and quickly wiped the pooling spit from my mouth.

“Tsk tsk. That shouldn’t be the behaviour of a professional. As if you could call yourself that.” She smirked.

Cassandra was that type of mousey woman that would hassle the old, and probably plagued with arthritis, shop clerk at a grocery store to re-scan her food items, whip out some coupons that have been expired since 2008, and then say the most pitiful phrase of all: "Can I speak to the manager of the store please? Do you think you could do that for me?” before insisting that “it’s not because of the money, it’s the principle” so that she can leave the dollar store with an ounce of her dignity intact.

God, I wanted to grab the nearest scalpel and slice her nose off.

Instead, to ensure that I wasn’t thrown into the looney bin (although I really, really, really should be there already), I just smiled at her and mouth “sorry” in the most condescending way possible. She rolled her eyes, shut her door, and started ~~unbuttoning her top to display her chest to perk up the next patient~~ pretending to read the next chart. Success – I no longer needed to rot my eyes watching her twisted up, forever displeased face.

And speaking of such faces – I heard the brisk and ferocious steps of a certain red-haired general come speeding in my direction.

“Doctor.” He barked.

I flinched. As much as I prided myself on my humility, strength, _and_ bravery, (extreme emphasis on bravery - for I feared nothing except worms, falling off buildings, getting struck by lightning, strange patterns on walls, the ego of emo Ren, centipedes, naked Cassandra - who am I even kidding, I was a pussy), Hux managed to spit all over my fair traits, stomped them out until they were nothing but quivering messes, before inserting new desirable characteristics that he wanted for me. I was like lego to him – easy to break down, and even easier to construct. But I was more like the lego you find under some boy’s bed after years of collecting dust, so when you try to use the pieces, none of them really fit together very well, and that just meant that the user would have to jam harder. My mind completely shut itself down whenever he was in a 5m radius.

All in all, he scared me shitless.

“Yes, General.” I straightened up in his direction, and automatically ran my fingers through my limpy strands of brittle hair to try and clean them up so they somewhat resembled the floppy and malnourished cousin of his immaculately placed, sculpted head. I breathed in and out, in and out, in and out so my fingers would stop twitching.

He glanced over my outfit – and they felt like daggers were being stabbed into every place he looked, oh help me God – before sneering.

“I need help with a certain matter.” I shut my mouth before I could be a wise crack, so I only meekly nodded and thought happy thoughts – for example, me cuddled up with my illicit graphic novels under the cocoon of my blanket, shutting out the outside world, and most of all, shutting out Hux and his plump mouth.

He started circling me as if he were a ginger vulture catching his weak and fragile rabbit prey. Although I truly would like to imagine myself as the graceful desert tiger - do those exist?, I knew that he won this round – and basically every other round that hasn’t even started in the future. He was Hux; he won everything.

“One of my…” Very strange pause, and his face contortsedas if he iwastrying to find the least offensive word for whatever seemed to be pushing the stick up his anus even further, “Colleagues…” He settled on this but still managed to lace it with venom, “needs a cleaning.”

And promptly stopped talking, and shifted his weight towards me to see my reaction.

It happened before I could stop it, my mind had gone all Whoopi Goldberg, "What did you just say to  _me_?!", and the oh-I-(pretend to) take-no-shit-from-nobody attitude was coming back. I prayed to the merciful God of the sky to keep me alive.

“Ex _cuse_ me?” I said with enough sass that would knock out a pack of teenage drama queens, shiny bubble-gum-sparkly Nokia phones with fluffy keychains still hanging out of their hands.

Now I was not saying I had anything against those who made their living giving middle-aged men baths; in fact, one of my very close friends was making a killing like that with some of the higher-ups in the Galaxy, but I was most definitely not one of those people. Mostly because first: I wasn’t all that hot. And second: My attitude was shit. And lastly: I didn’t find that all very pleasing. And so when I heard that Hux had personally asked me to give one of his colleagues a little bubble bath with a rubber ducky and soft Aveeno moisturizer afterwards, please excuse me for letting a little bit of fire tumble free from my mouth. And I wished I had only let out that little puff, but now I was on a roll and I could not stop for the life of me.

I slowly watched Hux’s face turn to the same shade as his hair, and I wanted to throw myself off the Base and into the frigid nothingness of space because I had a better chance of surviving there than here with the General. He looked like he was just about ready to take the stick out of his butthole and insert it into mine.

“You want me to do what?!” I snapped. “Who do you take me for?!” I huffed right in his face, and I realized that I weighed my pride before my life. Ironic.

“Doctor –” He cut in, but I waved him aside as I was about to unleash hell and fury upon his ass for even suggesting such a thing. “I am not such a woman, if you even bothered to see that you are in fact inside my medical examination room,” And then I realized that we are actually in the hallway but I gloss over that quickly, “My medical examination hallway,” Yes, a quick save!, “Then you would know exactly what type of services we offer!” And I jabbed one of my sausage fingers into his strong chest.

His eye was twitching, and a vein was popping out of his neck. I started to see patients, nurses, and (gross) Cassandra, peak out from behind their veil of masked o-I-am-so-not-curious-as-to-what-is-happening-right-now, and this somehow gave me more fuel. “If your IQ was higher than that of an ironing board, maybe you would have grasped the fact! And I am most definitely not one of your monthly escorts.” I casually let that rumour slip in. His eyes bulged open and I knew I had just sealed my death warrant: _Oh goodbye cruel world._ “Jueta will be next week, and frankly, I think I am _much_ more attractive than her.” And I had just added the cherry on top.

“Doctor.” He hissed, ignoring the masses of people who have surrounded our little argument. Short pause, long enough for my mind to shut down again - I could just imagine what was happening throughout my body:

_Abort mission! Abort mission!_

_No, it is too late! The mouth has already operated without consent!_

_AHHHHHHHHHH_ *bodily organs shut down* *activates internal and external screaming merge* *takes off pants for good measure*

“You have ten seconds to apologize before I make you regret every last word you uttered,” and in a suddenly lowered, softer, cooey voice, “…kitten.” 

I almost landed butt first on the ground. Kitten? Had he just called me kitten? And it was in that moment I wished I could grasp my past memories like a child running through an open field, I wanted to be able to hold those instances in the past like a housewife does to her glasses of wine, and I desired nothing more than to know how much of a hoe past me was. But then I broke out of my philosophical muse, and I realized that the clock is ticking and I had mere seconds left before Hux either went all Dominatrix on me in the bedroom or ruthless Genghis Khan on me on the battlefield.

So for once in my life, I swallowed my pride and whispered, “I apologize. Must be the meds (if the scotch I was nicking off of Phasma count as medication) I’m taking. Mood swings, you know.”

He almost smiled - which was about as natural as me with neon pink hair, which unfortunately did happen because 13 year-old me was intent on getting kicked out of reform school (yes I know I have amnesia but Ren made it very clear that this memory would never be forgotten) - and walked away, all satisfied with beating me into a pulp.

As the crowds of people scurried away back into their mouse-holes, he turned around and adds: “The _colleague_ I speak of is Millicent.”

Millicent? Hadn’t heard that name since the senior home I dropped off my parents in last fall. It belonged to a shriveled up old prune who liked to stick her knitting needles into the pudges of my stomach and shake her head every time she saw me lift a donut. When I kindly told her to mind her own business, I was actually considered healthy to some regard, and it wasn’t like she had much time left to live anyways, she faked a heart attack and told the matron that it was me who purposely scared her: “Lord take away the Devil! It is _she_ who stands before me!” Old hag wasn’t even religious.

I hated Millicent.

“Millicent is my cat.” He offered after a very long pause – or rather a long period of time of me uttering my thoughts about Millicent, the living dust ball, under my breath.

“Stupid hoe.” I whispered, still refusing to let go of the grudge I had against her. Didn't know Hux was a cat person...or a person even.

Hux squinted and started pounding down the hallway towards me again.

“Would you like to repeat that?” He waited patiently for his little rabbit prey to make a sound.

Hesitation – and Hux was instantly suspicious that the next words out of my mouth were lies. So I put on my golly-gee-I-am-just-too-darn-thick-to-say-anything-useful-har-har-har-give-me-my-bonnet-and-wooden-spoon face, and with a voice three hundred times higher, “No, sir! I said nothing!”

I expected him to pin me to the ground and choke the life out of me for saying such a cliché phrase, whilst hollering, “Long live the First Order! Death to the Republic!” and I would grossly gurgle to my unattractive death upon the metallic floor. But alas, he was probably too tired or too much of a germaphobe to do that, and so I had to continue this awkwardly painful conversation.

“If I am not mistaken, I heard you say: stupid hoe.” He stared into my eyes.

“No, no. You probably misheard.”

“I do not mishear things, Doctor.”

“You did this time.”

Another hard squint. I just saw Satan shaking his head and start preparing my extra hot room in Hell – we all knew there was no way I’d be allowed through the pearly gates above.

“If you do not answer my question, I will ensure that you are punished.”

“There was no question.”

“I am not repeating it.”

“There was _no_ question.”

Pulling tight of the mouth. I was _really_ starting to get on his nerves.

“Doctor…” He said in his warning tone – scratch that, his you’re-about-to-be-sent-to-the-dungeon tone. And if there was no dungeon, he would personally make one just for me and set Shrek as my guard (because if Hux scared me shitless, Shrek sucked out the remnants of my soul).

“General…”

“ _Doctor_.”

“General.”

“Doctor!”

“General! Oh Rose! Oh Jack!” I cry out – I just couldn’t help myself.

“If you dare continue like this, I will _personally_ carry out your punishment - and do not _think_ that Supreme Leader Snoke can get you out of this.” Snoke...?

Oh my god. There was no way I could throw him off. So I lied. As I do all the time.

“I said stupid…Joe.” Great. Now I was both annoying and stupid.

“Joe?”

“Yes, Joe.” Crossed my fingers that he would take me up on this answer. I even promised that if he did I would turn into the world’s saintliest saint – no more twisted up virtues! No more pre-marital – ah shit, can’t backtrack on what I’ve already done.

“I could have sworn you said hoe.”

“And if I did…” I implore.

“Then I would have thought you were describing yourself.”

Look of triumph in his eyes, flare-up in mine.

“I’ll have you know that I am very selective with the men I choose to sleep with – and seeing that you haven’t made the list only shows how low you are on my pecking order!” I blurted out angrily.

The amusement in his eyes told me a different story. God...that kitten thing wasn't a slip of his robust tongue.

“Ha. Well let me remind you. We had intercourse a total of 18 times.” He held up a finger to stop my protest. Why in the world had he kept count? “Once in the supply closet,” And he pointed at the one where the Stormtrooper had retrieved the mop, “Twice in my office, four times in your bedroom, five times in my bedroom, three times in an airship, twice in your office, and once with – in Kylo Ren’s…room…So please, continue about your…pecking order.”

I couldn’t say a word. No thoughts could be formulated.

“And you are right – Jueta will be here next week, but you have sadly mistaken her job. She mends my coats...not – other things.”

He snorted and almost seemed human - second time in the last three minutes. I was still stricken with the fact that past me had slept with both Ren and Hux – I really _was_ a stupid hoe.

“But don’t you worry kitten...” And he leaned in so that his lips and his carefully trimmed orange hair were just close enough to send a tingle down my spine, and his breath felt like a blast of warmth from the desert.

“That means there’s an opening in the job market.”

And with that, he marched off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hux makes my knees and writing weak.


	3. Back to Green

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So I decided if he were to hate me for being, well me – that list seemed to be growing longer each and every day – then I would give him something to truly loathe me for. And the annual Be an annoying asshole tournament had commenced.

FLASHBACK

“She cannot possibly be the one.” Kylo Ren grumbled under his mask, choosing to convey his emotions through his slouching figure that more closely resembled a toddler who wasn’t allowed chocolate than the most powerful…debatable…leader of the Galaxy.

I snorted and flipped my braids over my shoulder before sitting in such a manner that every single middle aged and elderly lady in the galaxy gasped in unison. I played around with a flame in my palm before sighing dramatically and waving my hands in the air.

Quickly apologized for setting Ren’s side robes on fire; casually winked at a disapproving Hux.

“Well darling, I guess it’s time for you to realize that I am not only _the_ one, I am the _only_ one.” I confused myself with that statement, but seeing no reaction from the crowd I didn’t back track.

“You are…the last of your tribe?” The pause was not out of hesitation, but because some sad toad had landed on Hux’s Gucci boots and had to be crushed by a wooden walking stick before the conversation could continue.

“I…uh…” And my eyes were drawn to the meagre insides of the amphibian being flicked off to the marshy sides by a set of long fingers, “Yes. Considering _you_ ,” And I angrily looked at the couple in front of me, “managed to shit all over my settlement.”

“I can assure you no feces were – ” Kylo Ren began to explain but I tossed a large rock at his metal head to shut him up – how can anyone be so utterly stupid? Why would I actually be talking about human waste?

“Not literally shitting, Einstein.” Whoo, throwback to the 1940s. “Shitting with bombs, blasters, even shittier Stormtroopers – by the way, who does their training?” I rose an inquisitive eyebrow at Hux.

“I do not appreciate _any_ sort of feedback from your like.” He spat.

So I decided if he were to hate me for being, well me – that list seemed to be growing longer each and every day – then I would give him something to _truly_ loathe me for. And the annual _Be an annoying asshole_ tournament had commenced.

Another fireball in the direction of Ren – I loved my men nice and toasty! After I got enough out of the lurking man-child desperately patting out the flames that were trickling down his outfit, whilst angrily whispering about how they were “hand-woven, weaved from the _Kopler_ plant – Hux! The _Kopler_ plant!”, I turned to face the stoic red-haired general.

“I always love to see a new couple coming to my planet on their honeymoon.” I smiled sweetly. “There’s a nice dry cave up ahead that’s perfect for sleeping, cuddling, pounding each other’s – ”

In his fury and rush to leave, Hux had pushed Ren into the swamp (who was now bobbing up and down in the muddy waters), trampled over his lover, before yelling at three idle Stormtroopers to ensure, “That grotesque _female_ be put into every existing constraint!”

While the poor souls nervously made their way towards me to carry out their orders (and I made them a face that said I would strangely cooperate – if they didn’t put their grubby hands on _my_ outfit), I could hear the intermittent cries of the Galaxy’s most formidable foe: “Hux! *gurgle* _Kopler_! *gasp* Irreplaceable! *cough* I…am…tired…of…you…” Not accepting our love? I thought. Not sleeping with me? Not going out in public?

After letting him drown for a good quarter of an hour, I pulled him out of the tangles of the seaweed and sand. His hand grasped eagerly onto mine. When he finally crawled out of the hole, Ren’s mask had fallen off, and his dark hair was matt with green moss, but there was suddenly a blast of tranquility when I looked into his sad, yet lively eyes.

I mentally sighed. Such a pity that he was already taken.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First flashback that the character gets!  
> I will be off on vacay for a while, so enjoy the trash-like 3 chapters I have managed to pull out of the darkest and most garbage corners of my brain.


	4. The Three Crazies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While I was talking, Ren had successfully used the force to casually take my potato soup – well joke’s on him because they probably spit it in that. Still, I was getting worked up that he had taken my meal credits and yet was stealing from the poorest member of Starkiller Base – so I used both hands, old man-style, threw his helmet onto the other side of the room.

“Heard you messing around with Hux last Friday,” Cassandra snorted behind me in the cafeteria line.

If only the grumbling of my stomach could mask the high pitched whine of her pissy voice…and if only murder was not frowned upon in this advanced society. And if she even had an inkling of what I had to do over the weekend to placate Hux - it involved a lot of one certain tabby cat and shampoo - the stories would never end and I would really have to kill her. 

“And exactly what would _you_ like to do about that?” I said while aggressively stealing the last apple from her trophy wife hands. She dug her nails into the back of my hand, so I dumped the whole rest of the fruit basket onto her.

“Oh dear, clumsy me. Here, let. Me. Help…you…with. That.” I grunted, picking up each fallen fruit, only to toss it at her face each time. I watched with pure joy as they bounced off her pristine nose, squinty eyes, and large forehead – the whole nine yards. She was squeaking non-stop and acting like I was slowly draining her blood from the inside. God, such a drama queen.

Right as I was about to power vault the last pear onto her, a firm hand grasped my wrist and I heard it break in three – no four – places.

Leave it Kylo Ren to not let me have my fun. He already banned me from the Renegade game room, inserted new locks on my dorm in case I tried to sneak out - little did he know I just used a razor blade to pick them whenever I felt like traversing the hallways at night, and had four separate guards track my every move and take notes about my possible recovery. What more could he do-

“You are relieved of your meal credits for this week.” He stated.

Whoa, whoa, whoa. Wait a minute there. The whole _entire_ week??? It was just a stupid Monday!!! I couldn't even get through _seven minutes_ without having some sort of nourishment – one time, when I wasn’t fed in the Base’s hospital, I stole the sandwich from the unconscious Stormtrooper next to me (I mean, it wasn't like _he’s_ going to be eating any time soon), and yet another during the regular rationing period in the latter parts of the year, I had to borrow more scotch and vodka from Phasma, and each time I felt hungry, I took some...very…large…sips.

Then again, it didn’t help with satiating my appetite but it did land me in alcohol counseling. I mean, I was the only one in the group. And it wasn’t really meeting in a room but rather a very small cell. Come to think of it, I think I was jailed for a few weeks. Huh.

“I’m sure that you’re just kidding, Commander.” I chuckled and punched him playfully on the shoulder. Ouch. What was that thing padded with? Titanium steel? Dragon bones? The skulls of his enemies?

“I do not see me laughing.” He cut in front of me and was given a five course meal by the shaking lunch ladies. He set that aside on the counter.

As if you ever laugh, you emo man-child.

 _Shut up._ I heard running through my head, and I winced at the sound. Before I even had time to reply, Cassandra had unbuttoned the first three buttons of her _salmon_ – the number of times she corrected me on that – top, pushed up her WonderBra – that my roommate on the Base (I got a single room after I froze part of her torso to practice surgery on) used to wear before she realized that they were actually destroying her rib cage – and delicately placed her hair over her shoulder. She shoved me out of the way and threw herself onto Ren.

“Oh Commander,” She heaved, “I am _so_ glad you came in to save _me_ from such a barbarian.” And she tried to fall into his arms but noticed that he had his limbs firmly tucked to his side with no chances of movement, so she decided to _collapse_ onto him so he would have no choice but to hold her.

Wrong move, Cassandra. Kylo Ren completely ignored her to pick up his tray, then stepped over her lifeless body on the ground, before calmly – who knew he could ever be this composed in front of a crowd – seating himself at a table, sending the prior occupants scurrying into the corners of the room.

Cassandra stood up, dusted off her clothes, and acted as if nothing had happened. I knew she’d be squealing to all the other nurses that she had “been graced by his strong hands! He is _such_ a tender man…” I could not help but roll my eyes into the back of my head.

I was completely exhausted from a morning of calming down patients who insisted they had the measles. Hearing that I would be deprived of food for the next week only added to worsen my mood. I grabbed my tray of food and angrily stormed over next to Ren, who had removed his mask to start carefully picking out the tomatoes from his salad; with every small chunk of the red fruit (I hated to call it that, it really must be a vegetable) that was dropped onto the table, I felt one of the servers die inside.

“You can’t possibly believe you can starve me for a week.” I huffed as I bit down into my apple. I took off a rather large chunk and was having a hard time chewing it. Some of the juice was dribbling down my chin (just like this morning with the cough-drop water) and other pieces decided to have a party on the sides of my mouth.

Ren didn’t even glance up but continued his meandering task with the stupid tomatoes. Soon, Hux seated himself next me – this usually only happened because I was the one staff member who didn’t literally piss themselves (even though he truly terrified me) when he was next to them; it was rather obvious he was bored of reducing people to puddles of urine (I honestly should have just wet myself so he would stop sitting beside me, but alas, I had a childhood fear of anything to do with the urinary system). Surprisingly, he did not have his usual salmon bedded with arugula leaves and brie cheese and crackers - fancy fancay, but a medical chart. He cleared his throat, which partially stopped Ren from killing one of the chefs for the tomatoes, and began to read. And here I thought he would thank me for washing his pet.

“Possible diagnosis of multiple personality disorder, cyclomania, and narcissism. Must continue tests for clinical psychosis,” He stopped to take a sip at his coffee, which was too hot and thus thrown at the attendant who gave it to him, “Or in layman’s term…” He took a bite out of my muffin and held a finger up to prevent me from speaking, “Insanity.”

He flipped the chart over onto the table and barked at a cafeteria boy to get him a “ _warm_ coffee with _no_ sugar. And if you manage to do that incorrectly, I will send you to the morgue.”

Now the saddest thing was not Ren wanting to kill an innocent chef for providing fresh fruit (Jay-su-christ, a tomato should be a vegetable, seeds or not), or Hux giving third degree burns to Kevin the pathetic intern, or me not having a week of food.

It was the fact that what Hux had read could have applied to any three of us.

So naturally, I picked the one person _I_ thought it most applied to.

“Looky there Mr. Ren. Seems like even you can’t avoid the accuracy of Freud (Was it even Freud or was it Myer-Briggs or maybe Jung? Dammit I should fact-check my insults next time).” I smiled lightly as I ferociously attacked Hux for my muffin. He gracefully slammed my hand onto the table and continued eating _my_ dessert, unfazed with my spectacular outbursts of violence. He didn’t even seem to be listening to me. Ru- _ude_. “Guess you’ll be put into the pyscho ward.”

While I was talking, Ren had successfully used the force to casually take my potato soup – well joke’s on him because they probably spit it in that. Still, I was getting worked up that he had taken my meal credits and yet was stealing from the poorest member of Starkiller Base – so I used both hands, old man-style, threw his helmet onto the other side of the room. Bounced off of another trooper, who seemed to go limp.

Well, I sent another one to the infirmary. The last time this happened, it was with a coconut. In my defense, it was the first time in months we had landed on a nice tropical planet, and if Ian was not so insistent on claiming my coconut as his own, he would not have fractured his stupid head. For that I was sent to anger management counselling, which now that I was reflecting on the past, was once again the Base’s prison.

Ren gave me the death glare, and passively aggressively slurped down my soup _right in my face._ Hux was munching on _my_ carrot muffin. And all I had left was an apple and two dinner rolls. So I furiously stuffed my face with my leftover items in case any of them wanted to suck up my food.

“Well. Who do you think that description pertains to?” Hux asked as he brushed off the crumbs of the pastry onto the ground. Purposefully, because the caretaker was standing right next to him with a broken broom.

“Ren.” “Doctor.” We said in unison.

I was greatly offended because _I_ could say I was insane or crazy or mentally deficient, but when someone else said it, it was most definitely ~~disrespectful~~ outrageous. It was the exact same thing as that time I was saying how uncommitted, lazy, and outright unfiltered I was and my roommate in university eagerly agreed, even going on to say that I was so lazy, if the institution had an earthquake, I wouldn’t even try to evacuate the building but would try to will away the natural disaster while eating PopTarts. It’s odd what memories come back to you…but I cannot for the life of me what happened to her after that.

“Take that back, Mr. Emo-Man-Child.” I hiss Ed at Ren.

“No, why don’t you take that back, Ms. I-don’t-sleep-with-patients.” Ren muttered through his food.

“There is no proof I ever did that.”

“Do you want proof?” Yes.

“No.”

“Then don’t waste my time.”

“It’s not like you would have proof – unless you are that freak who takes pictures - ”

In a whirlwind of black cloth and the very light scent of mahogany, Ren had taken off into the abyss of the base. Sweet, he left his food! I would need to ration these and probably would need to break into the kitchen again…(I felt like having pancakes at 2am in the morning, it really wasn’t my fault – cravings always win).

Hux shifted himself so he was staring right at me. I swallowed the rest of the apple, and played around with the core, waiting for him to start his speech. If he called me kitten again, I would tear him from limb to limb…or my knees would go weak and I begin to grovel. One of the other.

“That,” He paused for dramatic effect – god, he loved to put on a front. Last time, when one of the new interns had accidentally turned off the shields, he had him put onto a _plank_ that sprung from the edge of the Base like those wooden ones that stick out from a pirate ship, and commanded him to jump. Of course, at the last second, Hux said he was feeling generous and allowed the intern to live. It did come as a shock when the intern jumped anyways, but the poor kid landed onto an airship that was just leaving base. Ended up being a pretty decent Stormtrooper who came in once or twice on anxiety issues.

Last thing I heard, he had disappeared.

“Was the medical sheet for,” And Hux paused again to drink his coffee which was smelling absolutely divine – he probably sent Ian back to the tropical planet to bring him the beans (see? I told him he wouldn't be permanently stupid from that knock of the head). He grabbed my chin to ensure I was listening to him and I began to melt like the Wicked Witch of the West.

“You.”

Me?

When had I even taken one of those tests?

I was not crazy. I mean I knew I wasn’t normal, but I was definitely not crazy.

“Not surprising, is it? The results came back this morning from the annual health determinant survey, and I needed to give you your results personally.” He was speaking rather loud, and the rest of the cafeteria had all tuned into this conversation.

I sat there, flabbergasted, but not flabbergasted enough to stop eating. Man, Ren had the best fruit salad.

“Until you are in absolute stable condition,” Hux stood up and straightened his jacket, “Or until you have passed the clinical psychosis test, you will enter into daily rehabilitation modules in the R9 Wing.”

R9 Wing? But that was where…

“Is that understood?”

Well yes.

“She’s going to the R9 Wing.”

“R9? No one’s been there in ages.”

“I knew there was something wrong with her.”

“She’s not coming back.”

“No one comes back from the R9 Wing.”

Hux knocked me on the head, and awaited my response. I meekly said, “Yes, sir.”

Curt nod, and he was gone too. I felt pathetic.

Now that I knew I was under clinical trials and observation, I could feel my entire identity slip away again. There was something I did in the past that had them set up this analysis – I just knew, or maybe I hoped, it was entirely staged.

Because I did not want to go to the R9 Wing.

Because I knew that even I would not be treated differently there.

Because that was where the powers of Ren and Hux and even Snoke disappear, and you are left in the hands of the R9.

I rubbed my temples when I hear a pristine voice echo through my brain.

_Come._

_Do not be afraid._

Well, screw them because I was. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oops I'm back.  
> But I will officially be gone for a bit 'cause vacayyyy.  
> Peace


	5. Alcohol is My Bestest Friend

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Three Stormtroopers with broken bones, one head trauma victim, and a hypochondriac later, I decided it was a good time to open up my little friend in the cabinet.

Every day after Hux has announced my instability to the entire base, I was completely outcasted. No matter where I went, the whisperings followed - even to the washrooms (it is not nice when you are trying to empty your bowels and some geezer is going on about how they hope you never come back from R9). Since it was only the beginning of my treatment in the dreaded wing, I had come back each day to work - much to Cassandra's chagrin - in one piece and slowed down with only a minor headache. One week into the modules, I went for lunch looking like death and decay - in fact, I looked so awful Ren quietly gave me his meal. 

The entire cafeteria had its eyes on me, and it was the first time I wasn't thoroughly enjoying the attention. I was regarded as the village idiot (or thief, depends on who you ask) of the Base, so the only time people noticed me was when I did something stupid or illegal - which happened very often.

  
Last time, it was me actively opening the AED machine in the middle of Hux's speech about the disgusting Republic, knowing full well that the instance I propped opened the case it would beep to the heavens. That got me a yelling from Hux who questioned my sanity every other sentence and vowed to hang my entrails from the ceiling. I jokingly said I could help him with the dissection and show him which blood vessels he should cut.

  
Funny that he finally got the answer to, "Are you _insane_ or _stupid_?" The medical report said the former, but I said both.

  
I prodded the shepherd's pie in front of me, mentally thanked Ren, and my appetite suddenly disappeared. Huh, today seemed to be a day of firsts.

  
"Crazy psycho." Cassandra hissed as she trotted by. Where the hell had she been when I needed her for some emergency patients who claimed they were Jesus or Delphi? Off sniffing Ren's boxers? I had caught her once with his undershirt and she stuttered, "I'm washing it...for him." Washing it, my ass.

  
"Coming from you." I snapped. There was nothing but anger, frustration, confusion, and outright fear swirling around in me. Too many questions, and literally no one to answer them. I was a ripe fruit about to burst, and I knew Cassandra would be the one who stuck the final knife into me.

  
She leaned in close enough I could smell her toothpaste - got to admit, she did have great oral hygiene (when you grow up with a dentist as a mom, you can't help but notice these things) - and taunted, "I'm not the one going to the wing."

  
And that was when I actually lost it. I had been prodded by instruments of faceless workers every morning for three hours for the past seven days before being sent back to deal with the world's largest group of dumb sick people. Hux would message the wing about increasing the intensity of their day's work and Ren avoided me whenever I wanted to talk, seemingly too busy for anything. Life was shit. So I smacked the pie onto her face, dumped the salad down her shirt, and swung her by her hair, all the time yelling, "You shut your filthy mouth!"

When I realized what I had done, I was first pleased and then worried - I had asked my lunch on Cassandra. I muttered an apology - in case she ran to Ren crying about how I had cold-heartedly tried to kill her, at least now I could say I _did_ have remorse - before sprinting out of the cafeteria and into my examination room.

  
A thought flashed across my mind as I cursed myself for being so out of shape: maybe I _was_ crazy. But I didn't have the energy to entertain that idea since every bit of ATP my cells were producing needed to power my chicken legs, so I told it to go fuck itself.

  
Ah, the sanctuary of the medical clinic. I decided the best thing was to pretend I hadn't tried to end Cassandra's life, and continue onwards like the good little doctor I was. I could always weep my way out of punishment, like I usually did - though that only worked when I had finished watching films with dying animals.

  
So I called in the next patient, and played off the food stains on my shirt as "a complication in surgery - yes, it's possible for the body to produce seeds."

  
Three Stormtroopers with broken bones, one head trauma victim, and a hypochondriac - "Sir. You do not have polio. You are vaccinated. No, you don't have syphilis either (You'd have to be sexually active, and I'm almost certain your love for species of moss is not helping you in the love department). And you _absolutely_ do not have the bubonic plague." - later, I decided it was a good time to open up my little friend in the cabinet.

  
Ah, good old whiskey brewed wherever it was brewed. All I knew was that this was the one bottle I had gotten myself and not from Phasma. Well. I took it from Hux, but I considered that to be a much harder task. I had to sit in his overly large garbage can for over an hour, pick the lock of his liquor cabinet, and select the least conspicuous spirit from his collection.

  
I was chugging half the bottle when my clinic door was swung off its hinges and tantrum-throwing-Darth-Vader-I-have-daddy-issues-Ren burst through the unsightly opening, one hand holding his just-as-angry Red Cross sword and the other clutching a medical report. Fine, ignore me for a week and then tear down my medical room.

  
I couldn't properly think or savour the taste of the fine alcohol, but I was almost certain Ren was here to escort me back to R9 for further investigation or to kill me for trying to snuff out a colleague's pitiful life with his kindly given food.

  
"YOU ARE ENTERING R9?!" He roared. That sounded oddly more like a question than a statement.

  
"Take me away, Commander. It's not like it's the first time. But could I take this," And I swoop up the whiskey, "with me?"

  
"ARE YOU LISTENING TO ME?!" He shouted into my ear, and I was so confused.

  
"Uh yes, that's why I'm taking my most prized possession. I don't think I'll be coming back this time."

  
His face contorted into some emotion that was borderline "Kill me now so I don't have to spend more time with this lunatic" and "How is whiskey your most prized possession?" He shook his head, and gripped my arm - holy God, I needed an X-ray to see just how many bones he managed to crack in my body.

  
"Tell me _exactly_ what is going on." He seethed through his teeth.

  
Sort of wish you would do that. I thought you knew already...

  
"I'm...going to R9? Like I have been this entire week?" I slowly sounded out the words.

  
"Who made that order?" Ren's eyes flashed with anger - or maybe it was worry?

  
"Your boyfriend."

  
He yelled and stabbed his saber three inches from my thigh and into my custom made leather chair, creating a burning, cavernous hole. "Hux, you get your whiny ass down to EM259 right now!" He shouted down the hallway, and I could almost feel the vibrations from his voice. A couple of Stormtroopers stationed nearby promptly fainted. Great, more emergency patients to take care of. Then he ran his fingers over the injection points on my face and gently - how in the world - tucked my hair behind my ear.

  
But I could do nothing but stare at the flaming chair beside me. It was the most comfortable chair on the Base. It was molded for my butt. And Kylo Ren, with one foul swoop of his stupid sword reduced it to a shitty looking toilet. I started to wail and slapped him as hard as I can. "I am going to kill you! How dare you! I will make you pay!"

  
"Do you even have _priorities_?" He bewilderingly asked. Here was a half-sober-half-drunk doctor nearly in tears about a chair, yet was emotionless about getting sent to R9.

  
Obviously not, you dildo.

  
_Did you just call me a dildo?_

  
"What, do you need me to explain what a dildo is? And since you seem to enjoy ruining my life, why don't you go cut up Georgia too? While you're at it, just set my entire dorm on fire and toss me in for good measure!" I screeched. "And stop the mental conversations - "

  
Right then, Hux angrily strutted in and saw Ren holding my arm and me hanging like a rag doll. His face said it all: Why are you wasting my time with this pathetic woman again?

  
"What, is she dead?" And he poked me with his pen.

  
"What the hell, Hux?! My eyes are open and I'm breathing!" I sputtered.

  
"Too bad." He sighed and turned his precious, priceless, oh-it-is-more-worthy-than-the-galaxy attention to the fuming Ren. "What is it?"

  
"What is it?! WHAT IS IT?!" Ren screamed, and I winced. I was most definitely going deaf from this - I was so filing for an insurance claim. "You approved her entrance into R9! That's what it is!" I could feel the pure, primal fury leaking from Ren's body. I was _so_ thankful his saber was in my chair instead of his hand. Speaking of hand, I really wanted him to loosen his grip.

  
_Shut up_.

  
What had I just said about mental conversations? Why did no one ever listen?

  
Brief flash of hesitation over Hux's face. He looked for the door handle before realizing there was no door. He made note of the empty doorway in his tablet, and muttered about how much money he would save if Ren was caged.

  
"It was the result of the survey." Hux stated. "Only course of action."

  
"I don't think Snoke would assign me to her rehabilitation if she was just going to get sent to R9." Ren clenched my arm harder. Ow, ow, ow.

  
"She needed to be contained." Hux looked at me. "She tried to kill Dr. Oppeit today with a pie, and that's after a week of rehabilitation in the wing."

  
Shit, he found out.

  
I decided it was time to say something when suddenly Ren presses his hand - Oh god, stop being so rough with my face - to my head, and my mind went black. Last thing I remember was him swooping me up and parading down the hall with my empty head hanging over his left arm and my sweatpants-clad legs draped over his right arm, stomping towards whatever destination he was aiming for and Hux trailing behind, yelling about having public decency.

~

  
What just happened? I rubbed my temples and try furiously to recall what led me to my current position.

  
Which wasn't even that bad - I slowly took in my surroundings. It definitely wasn't my dorm because all the walls were black. I ran my hands over the soft blanket that I was suffocating-ly wrapped in like a burrito. This bed was huge and so comfortable, way better than my bunk bed.

  
I guessed I had sneaked into some Colonel's bedroom. If I were ever caught, I could always pull the I-am-dazed-and-confused card. I did get lost quite often, and I found myself in the weirdest places. But it was also from my aimless wandering that I happened upon my collection of blasters, happily taken from the weapons bureau, sleeping Stormtroopers, and the mechanics labs. No wonder there had been several PSAs about a First Order thief...it was just too easy to pickpocket on Starkiller Base!

  
I was just about to return into my state of sleepy limbo when I smelled mahogany. Oh my god.

  
I was in Kylo Ren's room.

  
I was in his bed.

  
Drunk me had managed to sneak past twenty guards, five restricted gates, and a ten-numbered pass code to snuggle up in the Commander's bed.

  
Here I was casually drooling over his pillow, infecting his bed sheets with my rose petal scent, and profusely sweating into his blanket. I was just about to burst out of there when I hear floating voices nearby.

  
"It was the survey, Ren."

  
"That's bullshit. And you kept that knowledge from me? She suffered this entire time."

  
Are they still arguing about R9? Didn't they have enough proof of my insanity? I mean, I attacked someone with pie. I groaned quietly.

  
_Are you awake?_

  
No?

  
_Don't make a sound. And please keep the mental...diarrhea to a minimum. I really need to think._

  
You don't have to listen to me, you nuisance.

  
_Please. I'm trying to help you._

  
Not my fault I'm more interesting than your lover over there. And you could have helped when I was begging to see you.

  
_Don't go down that road again._

  
"Ren? Are you listening to me?" Hux snapped.

  
"She should not have been even considered for R9." Ren gritted his teeth.

  
"Ren! She is nothing but a weapon of mass destruction!" Hux exploded, and left up from the red love seat he was sitting in. Yes, that was the chair I must take back to replace the one Ren shish-kebabed! Now, I only needed to sneak back in here - "Ever since she set foot on this ship, she has created nothing but chaos!"

  
Something told me we only ever had hate sex.

  
But it was true: I was the wild boar that Hux was desperately wanting to stick a bullet in, but Ren was blocking his every shot. And now that he had finally shipped me off, Ren was like some brain-damaged constantly pissed-off retriever who brought me back.

  
"The amnesia was just untimely. If we continue her training-" Ren sounded like he's pleading - weird.

  
"The training was going nowhere!" Hux shouted and his eyes cry out for some end to the madness. "All she ever did was burn the gym down to a crisp, make sarcastic quips about you and I being lovers (Just accept it! I'll happily be your best man - or best woman?), and moan about when lunch was!"

  
That did sound like me. Although where did I get a flamethrower...

  
_Shut up._

  
Fine.

  
Ren paced back and forth with extreme agitation, before huffing, "A little longer and there would have been more progress."

  
And I saw Hux actually lose it. "There was no progress! Ren, you had to see it." Hux's eyes were wild. "She was uncontrollable, completely impossible to tame..." He ran his hands through his hair which is disheveled - was I really that much of a handful? - and continues, "She only came onto the ship because -"

  
"Stop." Ren cut him off.

  
I thought I had come onto the ship because I was offered a job?

  
"Ren, you are utterly blinded. Stop being so naive." Hux grunted and plopped back onto the chair. He shifted his tightened jaw before saying, "You consciously kept her imminent uselessness from Snoke." Hux chuckled to himself. "I don't think he would appreciate that." 

  
"She is not going back to R9." Ren said with finality.

  
Hux threw his hands up into the air and cried, "Why are you so mentally **defected**?" And stormed out of the room.

  
Unsettling silence. I awkwardly tried to shimmy myself back into the burrito of blankets to avoid a conversation.

  
"He is right, you know." Ren stated without emotion.

  
I cringed but seal my mouth. Please, please, please just don't expect me to reply.

  
"I don't. Just listen."

  
He turned around, and seated himself on the bed. The mattress tipped towards his weight - how much does he weigh? I thought his mass was mostly composed of his black clothing, but he was only in a long sleeve shirt and dark pants. Maybe he wasn't secretly a skeleton?

  
"Can you please be serious for once?" He sighed, and his eyes were clouded with frustration and anxiety.

  
Okay. I could try.

  
"Are the pills helping you sleep?" I meekly asked from my cocoon. My voice was muffled because only my eyes were peeping out. I probably looked so stupid.

  
"No. But this isn't about that." He leaned closer and briskly asked, "Do you remember anything? From before Starkiller."

  
I remembered my university - Emperor's Palace - and the campus grounds, I remembered my roommate who I hated but loved, I remembered my family and my parents, I remembered the small restaurant I went to whenever I got asked out on a date, I remembered the marshes I played in when I was a child...and I remembered waking up in the hospital.

  
"Is that it?"

  
Yes. And I wanted to cry.

"What did they do to you in the wing?" No, I don't care who you are or what you can do, you're not getting the answer to that.

  
I closed my eyes and expected Ren to hit me for swerving his questions or him continuing to interrogate me or him kicking me out of his room.

  
But instead I felt his cold hands wrap around my burning ones and his soft hair touching my forehead.

  
I cautiously opened one eye and saw his were closed tightly. I felt a wave of emotions, some of which I could only decipher as anguish, regret, and fear.

  
I never thought he could feel fear.

  
He pressed his face closer to mine, and I did the same. It was a strange comfort, and seemed to spark some far away memory.

  
_I never thought I could feel fear either_.

  
And I had a sinking feeling of what he was going to say next.

  
_But I fear you._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It is too hot outside my hotel.  
> So enjoy some more chapters with some more depth (I hope) :)  
> Peace


	6. Why can't we be friends?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I puckered my lips and said, "Oh, is Commander Ren sad he hasn't gotten his morning kiss? Don't worry, I'm still here."

FLASHBACK

  
Handcuffs. Huh. Kinky or effective, take your pick.

  
I jiggled my wrists around and realized that even if I tore through the measly restraints I would be greeted by emo-punk-child and his joyful sword of death. So I decided against my daring escape plan and instead focused on my greater one: revenge on the so-called powerful First Order.

  
They had completely bulldozed over my life, my tribe, my fam - okay, I had fortunately sent them away to a retirement planet before all of this happened; they were getting on my nerves - and all for what? To attain some sort of entity that would allow them to win the war against the Resistance. Too bad all they got was me, the talking wrecking ball.

  
So I was going to return the favor. After I am successfully integrated into Starkiller Base, I will burn the entire place down with just my hands. Doesn't matter who's in it or what's on it, the place is going to go in flames. The sight would be wholly magnificent - like my own personal Underworld.

  
"I wouldn't think about that now." Emo punk Lord grunted beside me.

  
What the hell-

  
"The Force. Mind reading. Dark side." He said, monotonous. He ran his fingers over the burns of his clothes and grumbled about collateral damage.

  
"Well, just keep an eye out for fires." I sniffed, all haughty, and tried to cross my arms but fail spectacularly. Stupid handcuffs, I'm going to sear you off-

  
"Don't think about that either." He coughed, and un-sheathed his saber. "Or I'll have to use my joyful...stick of death?"

  
"Sword." I corrected him. Man, I needed to control what I thought before I _really_ get in trouble.

  
"That is something you _should_ do." He stated, and leaned back in his seat and quietly closed his eyes.

  
And to think I wanted to be his friend only moments before when I pulled him out of the swamp! That should teach me to be kind to strangers. Although the last time I was unconditionally nice led to a lengthy four day trial where I had to explain I wasn't trying to steal anyone's grandmother, I was only wishing to help her cross the river. Yes I had lifted her up, and yes I had made a joke about my creepy white airship - which I do not have, I can't fly anything - but explaining that I was merely kidding about that stuff didn't help my cause. I paid over three hundred dollars just to have her stop calling me "the stealing menace of the elderly" and the judge drop the case.

  
Ren snorted.

  
Looks like my personal anecdotes Were amusing, even to those that had loudly declared their allegiance to the Dark Side - not that I quite understood the concept, but my tribe had been neutral thus far through every war.

  
"Dark Side searches for...rationality. Decisions are made logically, without consideration of frivolous emotions." Ren murmured from his sleeping position.

  
What is this, an infomercial? Come join the Dark Side and we'll give you normal human thinking!

  
And who taught you to memorize that? The Snoke guy I keep hearing on deck? Your mother? Your father?

  
"Do not mention my... _father_." He snarled, suddenly awake and angry. So his usual self.

  
"Oh, does he not approve of your marriage to Hux?" I retorted.

  
He swiftly turned on his side and ignored my question.

  
"It's more complicated than that." He said, after a good hour. I had completely dozed off and now have no clue what he's talking about. And I was more pissed than I was when I fell asleep, since he had just woken me up from that one dream where I finally get to enter the cave Aladdin went in.

  
"Everything is complicated with you and the First Order." I mocked Hux's posh accent and tried to silence my growling stomach.

  
"I don't even know who's controlling what, whether you or Hux is the Chief... And why the hell is that shining silverware Captain over there wearing a torn cape? Is that homage to Superman?" I irritatingly asked, "Why is this ship moving so bloody slow - didn't light year technology get invented? Why are your Stormtroopers called Stormtroopers if they neither enter battles like a storm - more like little splatters of rain, to be fair - nor act like proper troops?"

  
Uncomfortable shifting. I started to recall our previous conversation that was cut short by my ability to immediately fall asleep and Kylo Ren's inability to carry on conversations.

  
"No wonder you have daddy issues." I scoffed. "But hey, with that head of hair and your height, you'd be an _amazing_ stripper."

  
"Get her the fucking muzzle." Ren barked, and faced me, his eyes searching for any hint of fear or uncertainty in my face. Honey. I could still think these thoughts and you'd still hear them. 

  
A couple of his men came running up with some weird-ass contraption which they tried to strap onto my mouth. Not yet, you kinky fuckers. I still needed to annoy Ren a bit more. So I headbutted them. I had a good twenty seconds before they came out of their dazed state.

  
I puckered my lips and said, "Oh, is Commander Ren sad he hasn't gotten his morning kiss? Don't worry, I'm still here."

  
And then I let their filthy hands tie the muzzle around me. Compliance, compliance, compliance...and then I would wreck havoc. I repeated that phrase in my head again and again to prevent me from burning a hole through the metal floor.

  
Ren settled back into his previous stupor.

  
_I won't miss you when you're gone._ I heard the sentence vibrating through my head...it was definitely Ren's deep voice.

  
Wow, not just mind reading - telepathy too. The whole package, I laughed sarcastically.

  
So I shot back: Glad to see I've already made that deep of an impression. Although, it's going to be rather hard to get rid of me, Commander.

  
_Don't think you're untouchable. I always get what I want._

  
Then I would be an interesting challenge.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Will be doing some major (?) edits, as in changing the time line a bit because I realized this happens over one day and fixing up my grammar - god the mixture of past and present tense is getting on my nerves haha.  
> Also these flashbacks are more for the reader than the character, so that's why she still doesn't recall much.  
> Peace


	7. My Clothes, My Rules

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Then he tossed me a shirt and pants - such nice gifts. Wow, this shirt looked just like the Jack Daniels shirt I had - I didn't know he knew where to buy them! - and these pants felt just like my worn-out sweatpants...and oh my god they were mine what the hell these were my clothes why am I not wearing them what happened-
> 
> "AM I NAKED?!" I screamed at the top of my lungs.
> 
> Ooo sexy time número 1.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I UPLOADED THE SHITTY VERSION BECAUSE I AM STUPID.   
> GAH HERE IS THE RIGHT ONE.

The warmth - the suffocating heat - the feeling of being trapped inside a fire - was I in hell already? A little too early for my taste, but hey, you take what you can get.

"Can't wait to meet the Devil himself." I murmured, my brain incapacitated by the burning sensation tearing through my body. I could barely open my heavy eyes, but I expected to see smoke of some sort rolling off my skin.

If I had known Hell was actually this bloody hot, I would have taken my chances at being a decent person - you know, hold open doors, eat my greens, abstain from murder...that was the one crime I had yet to commit. Unless Cassandra had choked to death on the pie, but I knew she was too stubborn a goat to actually get killed by pastry. Ugh, Cassandra. Even in death she managed to creep her way into my life. Just like the time she used a sledgehammer to open my filing cabinet, before delicately taking out my personal documents - but only my criminal record was deemed worthy, "accidentally" photocopying five hundred and forty six copies, and "it-must-have-slipped" distributed them across the base.

 _She_ should be here, not me. Or both of us. 

Well, if I really were dead, I should probably stop reminiscing about my shitty being and instead walk around, get accustomed to my new environment of skeletons and echoing screams of damned souls, and find the nearest nourishment centre. I sighed and swung my legs up -

Oof. Okay I didn't move an inch. Do you lose your privilege to move down here? How am I supposed to go to the bathroom? What if there is an emergency Underworld Society meeting and they can't start without me? Where do I go to file a complaint?

One more time, I told myself. Up we go -

Aaaaand what the hell was sprawled on top of me and why the hell was it as heavy as a fucking triceratops?! Who thought it would be a good idea to dump a giant ass rock onto the newest member of-

Snoring. The unmistakable sound of someone warbling through their nostrils was wafting from the supposedly large boulder on top of me. And then I wanted to kick myself for automatically assuming the worst out of a perfectly reasonable situation: I had fallen asleep in Ren's bed after our strange couple-ly conversation and he had decided to take refuge on top of my fragile body, maybe in hopes of crushing me into dust.

God, he was a human furnace - his body heat came in waves, permeating through the blanket and settling like flickering flames around me. I struggled and gurgled and tried so fucking hard to kick him off of me, but the two hundred pounds of evil refused to budge.

"No wonder Hux is always in a bad mood - being the bottom in your relationship must be so energy-consuming." I muttered, trying to pry off Ren's (oh, they were quite defined and so nice to hold) arms from my sides. Holy shit, talk about iron grip and -

Instantly, I felt air rush into my lungs and my body met the cool air as Ren leaped off of me as if I oozed poison, taking the deathly blankets with him. I opened my eyes and saw him pouting the corner, wrapped up from head to toe in the sheets, wiping the morning drool off his mouth and furiously combing his lovely black hair with his fingers.

"Hux is not the bottom." Ren spluttered.

"Oh, my bad, is he the top? I should've known, seeing how dominant he is elsewhere." I sighed, and slowly crept out of his bed, ready to apologize for being an inconvenience and return to work. Those R9 modules had taken almost all of my attitude, and I found it harder and harder to be sarcastic or bothersome - damn it, I had an arsenal of crude jokes I still needed to use.

"He is not anything! We are not-" Ren rushed forward and violently pushed me back onto the bed, much to my confusion, "Wait!"

"What now?! Do I need you to carry me everywhere because I am oh-so-weak?!" I angrily slammed my hands down. Stupid Ren and his stupid need to control every stupid thing. "And aren't you scared of me?" I scoffed.

Then he tossed me a shirt and pants - such nice gifts. Wow, this shirt looked just like the Jack Daniels shirt I had - I didn't know he knew where to buy them! - and these pants felt just like my worn-out sweatpants...and oh my god they were mine what the hell these were my clothes why am I not wearing them what happened-

"AM I NAKED?!" I screamed at the top of my lungs.

Ren had never looked more taken aback or uncomfortable. "Uh...y-y-yes?"

"OH MY GOD!" I screeched and instantly cover up my tender bits, retreating onto the headboard. I searched the ground for the rest of my clothes and see my bra and underwear tossed randomly over a chair and desk.

And then my eyes landed on a pile of unmistakably Ren's clothes by the wardrobe and a - no. Absolutely not.

"Are. You. Also. Clothe-less?" I closed my eyes and await the answer.

"Y-yes."

Jesus motherfucking Christ. Ren, your life is officially over as of now.

"Did you-" I heaved, ready to knock him over the head with the closest possible weapon - which happened to be his alarm clock.

Then his face was full of horror and he gasped, "No! No! I would never - do you not remember?"

"Oh so you drugged me!" And I launched the clock right at his head, and it struck him in the eye.

"What-no! You fully consented! You even said-"

"I ABSOLUTELY DID NOT."

"But you did!"  
  
"I am calling the police! You will rot in prison for this!" And I promptly fished out my phone from my pant pocket, and speed dialed Hux. He would never stand for such behavior and he would know exactly what to do.

"I don't know how you can not remember-"

"SHUT UP YOU TRASH BUCKET!"

"Did you just call me to tell me I am a trash bucket?" Hux's already annoyed voice said. I turned my full attention to the red-haired General and ignored Ren's pleading in the corner.

"No. I need to file a sexual harassment lawsuit of the highest degree."

Silence.

"Against who?" He cautiously asked.

"Kylo Ren."

Then I heard a huge sigh on the other side of the phone, and he started to groan. Guess this wasn't the first time-

"I take it that you don't remember last night then?"

"Not at all."

"Well then I could take you through the night, step by step."

What the hell...

"Because when I went to speak to Ren about your...R9 mishap around midnight, you were riding him like no tomorrow and even asked me to join."

What, is this a practical joke-

"And when I declined and tried to leave, you said, "For old time's sake, General" and of course I said absolutely not-"

With that phrase, the whole night came crashing back - the yelling, the hair pulling, the pleasure, me actually being less of an ass than usual. Talk about actually getting fucked out of your mind. I hung up and threw myself back into the bed, moaning the whole way through. No wonder my legs felt like jello and everything ached.

"Are you alright..." Ren quietly creeped up beside me and lied on his side.

"How could I have possibly forgotten..." I mused. "I don't get it..."

"I don't know exactly, but in the wing, they sometimes implant chips that erase certain short-term memories and replace them with synthetic ones they devise the next day." Ren pulled me into his embrace, oh so warm, and - yep, I felt his morning...wood. "Although I don't know why they would choose last night..."

"Well they didn't do a good job, because now I remember." And I secretly smiled because _man_ , it was a good night. 

Ren stuck his head in the crook of my neck and nibbled at my ear. His hot breath glazed over my skin, and he murmured something about being so glad we had returned to our usual selves. Which sent me packing my shit and getting ready to jump off the Base. 

Emo man-child sat up in bed and stared at me, fully dressed and halfway out the door before saying with frustration, "What is wrong with you?"

"Nothing." And I dramatically stuck my leg outside and my toe pointed to the ground.

"You were completely... _infatuated_ with me last night and now you're _leaving_?" Wow, so he was upset because I had damaged his big ego - sorry that I don't just take off my pants whenever you're around, Lord Dickhead.

"Look, I just don't...appreciate you mentioning us before when - oh wait, _I don't fucking remember_." I stood with my hands at my hips and cocked my butt to the side.

Emo man-child removed himself from the bed - and oh my God. You have just been upgraded to Emo Man and Lord Dick. Jesus Christ, you were so much more... _masculine_ than I thought. And my pussy seemed to agree earnestly, and I furiously told myself to shut up.

Ren chuckled and then said the second set of strangest words to ever come out of his mouth - only because two years ago at Phasma's promotion dinner, _somebody_  got a little drunk and made a speech about "And I have a dream where my ass is as fine as Hux's" which led to Hux beating Ren with a half baked dinner roll. 

"I miss you."

Nope, nope, nope. Seeing this sensitive side was just turning me on even more than his deliciously toned body. I told myself - you're all dressed, just leave, just walk -  but my vagina kept on whining about the fresh cock supply that was literally inches away from me now. Remember how aggressive he is, he is a man-child, he is - Ah fuck it. 

I jumped onto his already naked body, and I basically attacked his face. His lips and mine crashed together, sucking, grappling, fighting for dominance. It was bit too much tongue and a little less actual lip, but man, was it steamy. I felt his free hand grab my ass, and I tensed up before hooking my legs around his waist and he carried me - who was holding on like a clingy leech - back to the bed. After successfully dumping me on the mattress and prying my claws from his arm - they were so so so nice to hold - he started to slowly peel away all of the layers I had stupidly out back on. When that unnecessary task was complete, he hooked his finger on my panties before ripping them off with practice flourish.

I was basically _leaking_ down there. 

His hands danced on my skin and I groaned every time they were remotely near my entrance - so that meant every two seconds. And his little, or should I say rather large friend, was peaking out and I hissed, "Do it."

Ren obviously enjoyed this whole facade and I knew he wanted I just as badly as I did - erections never lie, first rule you learn - but he just kept on whispering in my ears all those dirty things that you never thought could ever be said. It was hot, it was sexy, and it was all goddamn _too slow_. After kissing him again and holding it for a good fifty seconds, I breathily muttered, "Hurry up."

"Patience, darling." And his hands went back to caressing my breasts and his mouth went...elsewhere. He kissed my inner thigh and I basically pass out from the anticipation. 

Why did I need patience when he was so completely the opposite?

Then he gave me his "I heard you" face and stroked my...I had at this point lost my entire head. Anatomy, my ass. I didn't know what he was doing down there or how many fingers he had managed to fit in, but none of that mattered because the rhythm was so damn pleasing. Then, it abruptly ended because Lord Emo Dick loved to play games. 

Fine, then I would too. So I announced, "If you don't actually and properly fuck me, I'm leaving and never coming back."

Silence. And bam, Ren was back with full power, and my body shuddered at his every touch. He moved, almost like water, and his face was back on mine again, kissing me as if our life depended on our lips meeting and our tongues colliding. Who needs to breath? His hands squeezed my sore breasts and I ran my fingers down his back, feeling every ripple of his muscles and every pathway of his scars. I wondered how many of those I had fixed...

Then he suddenly thrusted into me, and I gasped from the surprise - mother of god, he was definitely _Commander_ of something. His member filled my entire inside, and the movement was so practiced, hitting the mark each time he entered. We moaned in unison, and I clawed his sides, begging him to go faster, harder. I felt the buildup, the clenching of both our sexes, and I couldn't help but cry out when he pushed in even more - how much further can his dick go? It was beginning to feel like Journey to the Centre of the Earth. And then the throbbing, the lust, the rush, the climax-

And then everything went into slow motion and I saw Ren's relaxed face with half a smile, about to turn over to hold me again, I felt the warmth in my opening and the tension melting away, and then I got a shiver down my spine, the type that freezes your blood and paralyzed your body. 

I knew Ren heard it too.

_You cannot have any emotional or physical attraction._

_Come and let us cleanse you of your sins._

_You could be so much without your human needs._

_Come and let us feed you with power._

_You can overtake the measly Commander and the useless General and even Snoke._

_Come and let us give you the control of the universe._

Goddamn, why did they have to ruin everything? 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy I hope!


	8. Weather Forecast: Shitstorm Alert

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If I hadn't known who were in the picture, I would have thought either a. they were a goth band transitioning into popstars or b. a little emo teenage couple.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> R9 REVELATIONS IN NEXT CHAPTER.

So I _wasn't_ going to get to cuddle with Lord Emo Dick after fucking him _twice_ in one night (or morning, who could ever tell because Old Man Ren liked to keep all of his curtains firmly closed and the AC down to I-am-freezing-even-my-imaginary-balls-off as if he were trying to mimic the morgue) just because some annoying, creepy, rather elderly man with long fingers stroking your spinal cord voice was peeping into our heads?

See, _this_ is why I did not condone, nor took to very pleasingly - except absolutely nothing was pleasing to me - those mental ping pong tournaments.

My sweaty face was then firmly greeted by the sharp point of Ren's elbows - I _do_ think he has a personal vendetta against me as he made sure to use my face as a trampoline for _both_ his arms - as he stood up in a flurry of blankets and clothes, his face about as red as the tomatoes he had picked out of his salad only a few hours ago. He was practically spitting the words out, the little blobs of saliva streaming from the corners of his mouth like pinata decorations. They used to sell those in the canteen but after a series of over-the-top brutal beatings of those little candied horses - I promise, I did not _mean_ to crack the floorboards...we all need a way to get rid of that anger right? I used an oak wooden bat and a paper-mache sculpture, _do not judge_ \- Hux promptly pulled not only pinatas, but also balloons, streamers, candles, and anything else "that is grotesquely childish and most deplorable" from the shelves. Next time Phasma yells at me for decorating her room with toilet paper, you know who to _really_ blame.

"Are you genuinely more concerned about toilet paper streamers than the fact that you have been communicating with whatever that was _without my permission?!_ " Red-faced Kylo Ren roared from the left side of the bed, smashing my eardrums to bits.

After I had recovered both my eyesight and my hearing - from the spit and the yelling, respectively - I started to make a map in my head about the whole situation. I did not, as hard as I tried - or as hard as I appeared to try, those memory consultations were the most gruesome times of my life: "Can you remember anything?" No. "How about now?" Still no. "How...about now?" Fucking no, now remove that overly bright light from my eyes before I smash your head in with it - remember anything from before the past three years on the base as an alcoholic, anger-spouting, mouth-blurting, semi-qualified doctor. But apparently, as I had pieced together in the past week, I had some sort of a relationship with this heaving mass of evil and adorableness to my left as well as the General...no time for descriptions, Ren was giving me the death glare.

"Are. You. Done." He seethed, slowly reaching for his lightsaber.

Wow, so _this_ was how he was going to repay me. Gosh, at least he could have had the decency to let me know beforehand that he killed all of his sleeping partners, or maybe just removed a few limbs. And all that talk about being glad to becoming our old selves again...

"I am not going to kill you." He wheezed, obviously exasperated with the entire situation.

"I don't know that." I snapped back, mad that he had cut off my first, thorough, mental diorama.

He sighed dramatically and slumped into the bed, waving his hand as a bid to finish my thoughts before the conversation continued. Well thank _you_ for your kindness, oh great Commander. I rolled my eyes and tried to think back when -

No. No. No no no. Nononononononono. _What_ was that? Excuse me, Lord Ren, what the _fucking_ hell do you have mounted on top of your wardrobe over there? I better be fucking hallucinating because if that is what I think that is -

I lept up from the bed with the energy of a sprinter - much to Ren's surprise as he seemed to be in awe that a sloth could move at such a speed - and climbed up his wardrobe, still naked - oh boy, _that_ splinter was going to hurt. Soon after, I felt his arms grappling with my torso and the muffled voice of a man desperate to keep his secrets completely secret, especially from his one-night-stand (or twice in one-night-stand).

"Stop!" He cried into my backside.

But I was a stubborn and reckless goat so I was going to get what I came here for. And now a little bit closer...a little longer stretch in the arms...damn! God, if I had just taken those army boot camp classes I might have been able to lengthen my penguin arms.

"Stop it!" He warbled with as much class as an axe murderer - which bluntly put, _is_ what he is. He really did not want me to get a hold of...

"YES!" I declared, and kicked him off of me as I slid down the wardrobe - oh god, another one...I didn't even know I had nerves there - and dived back into bed. After I had settled myself back in and dusted off the object and my hair that had collected cobwebs, I finally got a good look at the framed picture. Meanwhile, Kylo Ren was pacing back and forth, muttering about common decency and "refraining from wiping your genitals on my closets".

"Go put some clothes on, dickhead." I retorted.

The picture was definitely old, maybe around ten years old? I didn't think anyone kept such ancient forms of information, but it obviously had a lot of sentimental value...oh...that was absolutely, without a doubt, even though I prayed really hard that I could be wrong as I always was with these things, me smiling next to the Commander. If I hadn't known who were in the picture, I would have thought either a. they were a goth band transitioning into popstars or b. a little emo teenage couple. We had our heads pressed close together, as if this moment could only be true if our heads were intertwined -

"Stop it with that gushy shit." Ren angrily said. He was fully clothed - a little disappointed, I did enjoy the view - and seated next to me.

"Well then, explain this to me. _Nobody_ keeps printed pictures around. I don't even have pictures of my family -"

"That has nothing to do with printed pictures."

...kay fine, you got me there.

"And you wore pretty dark eye...make-up? Cover-up? Whatever that was, a bit too dark for my liking-"

Excuse you, since when was _anything too dark for your liking_? You would literally live in Satan's asshole because absolutely no light could make its way in there.

"Well it was on the heavy side...but you know."

"No, I don't know." I crossed my arms - mostly to hide my pointed, frozen nipples than anything else, to be perfectly honest - and huffed, "So please, if you may, tell me."

He ruffled his beautiful, black locks and shut his eyes, trying to will away the disaster of a woman away from him. He let out a very long, and rather smelly breath of air and then exclaimed, "Fine!"

"Fine what?"

"I'll tell you!"

"What has even kept you from telling me all these years?"

"Snoke wanted you to regain your memories on your own. Something about discipline and strength."

"What is with this Snoke guy and me? How is there even-"

"Shut up and let me tell you."

"Well hurry up-"

"You are an Ether." He stated, so matter of fact I almost burst out in laughter - or maybe tears?

"I am not an organic chemistry structure, thank you very much." I gave him a side glare.

"God, no, not like an ether, an _Ether_." And he stressed the last word to hard I thought he was going to have a stroke. I refused to accept those fables as reality.

"They are not fables. They are not the rumours you hear from the Stormtroopers at lunch or during their daily check-ups. They are _real_." Ren mouthed each word slowly and delicately - I would love to kiss him again, his lips were _truly_ heavenly -

Then he mumbled something about letting me kiss him if I would shut up for the next ten minutes. So I gladly shut my mouth and gave him my undivided attention.

"And you are...or were (OFFENSIVE MUCH, REN) one of them. You see, Ethers have the incredible ability of being Force-Resistant - something to do with your ancient bloodline, making you untouchable entities. You are also a master controller of entropy - heat or more technically, the movement of molecules."

Wow, this was complete and utter bullshit. This was like some Yoda-shit right here.

"Most Ethers used this for good. Healing, constructing, expanding the world. Promoting democracy. Escape from the chaos. Emptiness, but wholeness. The values of... _Light_." He growled. He sounded like a bloody monk on repeat - hello, welcome to my monastery and let me teach you the ways of the Dark side and embody you in the beauty of being. "But you...you were something else."

I better be something else. As in a _normal human being_.

"You were...wild, and truthfully, a little dumb. From birth, I presume (fuck yeah, I came into the world fighting). Being the puppetmaster of entropy could have opened a lot of doors, but you only went down the one with fire. While everyone else was using their powers for control and order, you were using it for your own passions. Burning fields. Fighting others. You even managed to create lightning and struck whoever seemed to annoy you."

Oh, so a typical Monday.

"So I was a human flamethrower. Big deal." I tried to play it off, but somewhere inside, a flame - cheesy, I know, excuse the bad puns here - was flickering. It was something as close to fear as it got.

Fear of the truth.

"Exactly! (Wow, thanks Ren, so I am nothing but a garden tool for you - do you use flamethrowers when you garden? To burn the weeds?) We were infatuated with your power, your brutality, your madness. If you received training from Snoke or even me, the First Order would have in their possession the strongest weapon in the Galaxy."

An angsty teen, okay...

"Control of the _Force_ , you dimwit. Teaching you from the ancient books could have allowed you to actually learn how to control the molecules of every object, of every connection (Getting a little excited here, Ren), and ultimately the Force. But you didn't do anything. You voluntarily came, and yet, you did nothing but continue destroying everything you saw. And steal from my wine cabinet."

What did you expect?

"Snoke was insistent on continuing your training, and should you provide no use, to be killed immediately in case the Resistance got a hold of you. I...hid your failings (and why would you ever do that, Commander?) and Hux and I used you (as a prostitute?) - What no! Hux and I used you as a literal weapon on missions. Before we landed, we..."

Let me guess. Drop me from the aircraft and let me burn everything down. Something like a firey cartwheel of death.

"More or less. You liked it."

Good God.

"So why didn't you just go find another crazy Ether?" Man, I really wanted some ice cream.

"You were the very last one (except for my shitty family I have on some planet deep into the Galaxy of who knows where - just glad that they're safe playing bridge or whatever old people enjoy)."

"And why was I the very last one?" I inquired, seeing if he would humour me.

"Because the First Order killed the entire tribe."

Stunned silence. Did he just admit he massacred my entire tribe?! Did he think, for even a second, that this would end well for him?!

He grabbed my arms, and looked me dead in the eyes - and he was dead to me then, whether or not this was true, he was a dead man - and asked if he could at least finish telling me. I bit back a flood of acid tears and gritted through my teeth a very unwilling yes. If I truly was an Ether, then I was going to burn his ass down to the ground.

"It was against my wishes! But Hux insisted that having no weapon was better than having a weapon in the hands of the enemy -"

And now you have just signed Hux's death sentence.

"Look, this photo...taken by Phasma...was on the last mission we took together before you were hit and..."

Amnesia. The perfect clean slate. The best opportunity for them to rebuild me from the bottom up. I felt sick. Truly, truly sick.

"We were...together?" I croaked, hoping he would say no. Because it would hurt all the more that he would let them do this...

"Yes."

"And I guess my powers were blocked by the hit?"

"Yes."

"And you let me suffer for the past three years - "

"You were hit six years ago. You woke up from comatose - "

"I can do the math!" I screamed and was just about to knock his haughty nose and his twenty-nine freckles off his face when the speaker buzzed to life above my head.

Hux's solemn, snooty voice filled the room.

"Snoke has called a meeting. He would like to see the woman."

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait! Been a little bit under the weather as in fucking tired and pissed...so the usual.  
> Hopefully this clears some stuff up!  
> Also I have become engaged in the life of a certain Winter Soldier...that's eating away at me


End file.
